


And if you wrong us,

by MelodyGarnet



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: AU after the toast to Harry, Dark!Eggsy, M/M, POV First Person, Revenge, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 18:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3661128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelodyGarnet/pseuds/MelodyGarnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>shall we not revenge?</p>
            </blockquote>





	And if you wrong us,

“Put down the knife, Eggsy.”

The men before me whimper in relief, move frantically on his chair. They cry for help. If only they make enough noise, they think, they’ll be saved. As if. I smile. Took them long enough to find out. I look over my shoulder.

“Hello, Harry, love”, I say.There he stands, my Harry, suit and tie. I know Merlin is watching it all through his glasses’ camera. He’s aiming his gun at me, but he won’t shoot me. I know that. He’d have shot me already. He wants to know _why_. That’s good, because I want him to understand.

I circle around the men so I can look them in the eye. There’s three of them, all on chairs in a row, their backs to Harry. They’re bruised here, broken there, littered with cuts. Each of them covered in punishment, not a part of them left whole. It was a slow process to complete, but it’s been months, after all. That was long enough to punish them and then some.

“D’you hear him? D’you recognize his voice” I ask them. “That’s my lover. Well, he was until you killed him.” There’s murder in my eyes, I know. “He’s not dead anymore. Have I told you that already?”

The middle man’s eyes widen when I bend over and whisper in his ear: “Still, I wasn’t lying the other day when I though he was dead. Do you remember what I’m talking about, _Arthur_? Do you, Gawain? Or you, Percival? Maybe you were listening in, wouldn’t put it beyond you.”

Harry gasps. Didn’t know it was them I’d kidnapped, then. Just that I’d been holding random people hostage. “Arthur, Gawain and Percival died in the massacre!”, he says.

My eyes glare at him. “What”, I hiss, “Like _you_ died in the church?”

His eyes show remorse. Too fucking late for remorse, innit? Let me think he was dead for weeks, and then come back and end our relationship all because of his fool pride. He’d broken up because he didn’t want me to break up with him, for being an invalid for so long. I could stab him for not believing in me.He’ll never doubt my loyalty again, once he understands what I’ve done.

I caress Arthur’s cheek with my knife. “Do you know what truth of that day I’m talking about, Arthur? Word for word, please”, I purr. I cut his cheek, just a small cut, mind. He gasps in fear; I ask again: “What. Truth?”

“I’d rather be with Harry! I’d rather be with Harry!”, Chester responds quickly. He’s so terribly afraid.

Harry frowns. He looks confused, as if he’d never heard it before. But surely he must have seen the recordi-? “Aaaah”, I realize. I lean back and look at the three. “Had the cameras shut off, did you? Make’ em think you were the good guys.” I wiggle the knife at them.

“Yes”, Gawain explains readily “if any of them survived, we’d just assimilate, tell we’d been trying to stop it.” They obey so easily, now. Harry should be proud. Two senior Knights and the King himself fearing little old, chav _me_.

“Eggsy?”, Harry asks slowly, “Why did you kidnap them?” “I’ll tell you why” I yell, “They betrayed us!”

I turn Gawain and Percival’s chairs around so Harry can see their faces and I kick Arthur’s chest. He topples over and groans. I smile, feral. I grab his foot and stab the knife through it. He cries out in pain- it appeases me enough to calm me down.

“He got an invitation from Valentine.” I explain, my cool returned. “Be part of his crew, survive the killings all safe and sound in V’s bunker or refuse and die with the masses. Easy choice, innit?”

I grab Arthur’s foot and pull the knife out. Then I pull at his leg until the chair is back on its feet, turn it around. I grab his hair and show Harry his neck. The condemning scar is obvious.

I show Gawain’s and Percival’s scar, too. Harry lowers his gun. He’s starting to understand. I’m not evil. I haven’t betrayed Kingsman by kidnapping and torturing innocent people. _They_ betrayed Kingsman. I was only giving punishment where it was due.

I continue. Harry needs to _understand_ , truly, deeply, why I’ve done this.

“If anyone knew he’d gone bad, you’d be the one to see, you’d be the one taking over. So he got you killed. Put us all on the wrong tracks, made you visit Valentine, invited him to the shop and had him recognize you. Sent you to _fucking_ Kentucky.”

“Do you know what they do when an agent dies? They hold a toast. One glass, that’s it. I wasn’t even allowed to sit with ‘em. Not an agent, right? I came anyway, afterwards, to his office. Our Arthur here said he wanted to have a talk, give his condolences, raise a glass with me. He poured me a scotch, then offered me a place in Valentine’s bunker. I said no.”

Harry’s starting to look proud. “I’d rather be with Harry”, he repeats. I sigh, relieved. He understands then, my loyalty.

“I _was_ rather with you.” Now he’s confused again. I clarify: “I drank the glass.”

Harry takes a step forward, angry, worried. Of course the glass was poisoned, he’d known it as soon as I told him. He’s realized I wanted to die. He doesn’t like it. I’m his, he’s mine- neither of us likes the idea of losing it. Even if the bastard broke up, we’re still together.

He starts to scold me: “The poison-“

“-only knocked me out.” I interrupt. “Would have been a waste of a fit body after all. Can’t go pick up rent boys on Smith Street after the end of the world, can you?”

Harry looks furious. A true avenging angel, cold eyes and fiery anger, full of righteous indignation. It’s a glorious sight. Nobody can touch me like that, I’m _his_. He raises his gun again, but he points it at Arthur. He understands now, completely. “That’s how you got into Valentine’s base.” His voice is like a tiger’s, a powerful, angry, dangerous rumble. Harry stalks closer, eyes on his prey, a true predator. It excites me.

“You didn’t get kidnapped by V’s men and then escaped and took the maniac down. He took you inside. He _took_ you.” He looks ready to kill them. The three bastards have been silent the entire time, but now they sense the danger they’re in. They’re not about to be saved. They’re about to be punished _more_. They start pleading, begging, whimpering.

“They betrayed Kingsman” I purr, “and I’ve punished them for it.” I walk over to him and he pulls me close without hesitation. He kisses me, possessively.

He’s mine again. I couldn’t be happier, a fierce joy erupts. I take away his gun, and replace it with my knife. “Your turn”, I say and smile. Harry looks down at it, weighs it in his hands.

“Merlin”, he asks “What do you say?”

Through the speakers of Harry’s glasses I hear a voice, loud and clear. “Arthur, Gawain and Percival died in the valentine’s day massacre. Rumours of agent Galahad were spread to discredit him due to his relationship to our new Arthur. Also, I’m taking this weekend off. I might come to visit. The Scottish”, our dear friend growls, “aren’t fond of betrayal either.”

 


End file.
